Distractions
by MelodyPond17
Summary: Julia decides that she wants to cook. William is slightly worried about this. Oneshot.


**0o**O**o0**

It was an absolutely beautiful day in Toronto. The sky had earlier been a clear blue, speckled with fluffy white clouds, with the chorus of birdsong echoing through the air every now and then. The heat was almost unbearable; thankfully, it had cooled down as the day progressed and the sky darkened. Julia, despite being exhausted due to her hard work at the Asylum, had flat-out refused to stay inside and waste the gorgeous day away. William had originally been frustrated when she had barged into his office to kiss him, anxious she was overdoing things, but she had insisted she was entirely fine. As there were no cases at the present (and the lack of work was slowly driving William insane, though he'd never admit such a thing) Julia had managed to convince Inspector Brackenreid to allow him a short break. The pair had retreated to the meadow of which they had visited many times before.

"I'm going to cook a meal for us tonight," Julia announced to William, who looked quite taken aback at this statement.

"Julia… you're going to _cook_?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Are you suggesting I'm unable to cook?" she asked testily, her hand that was entwined with William's tightening.

Immediately, William attempted to backtrack, his eyes widening in dismay and his voice slowing, taking on a cautious tone. "No. No, of course not. I just… you've never suggested cooking yourself before. It took me… it took me off guard. I wasn't insinuating…"

"You _were_! You don't think I can cook! You, William Murdoch, are a terrible liar." Julia pointed at him accusingly with her left hand, her ring catching the sunlight and glittering in a way that made William blink. There was a short silence as Julia stared at William in vexation. He didn't appear to have heard her; he was staring at the engagement ring on her hand, wearing a stupid grin. She huffed, waving it in front of his face. "William! Are you listening to me?"

William jumped a little. "Uh… he said. "I… I think you'd be a wonderful cook, Julia."

Julia eyed him for a moment, and then: "You're lying, again. Please, don't ever gamble. So, tell me…" They had halted, and, trying to avoid the subject, William started walking once more, at a brisk pace. Julia released her grip on his hand and swiftly stepped in front of him. "…Why you think I can't cook?"

William winced, looking at his feet. "Honestly?"

Her irritation faded abruptly and was replaced with perceptible indignation. She took his hand again, stepping to the side and allowing him to pass. "Honestly. Don't worry," Julia assured him.

"I simply find it hard to imagine you cooking. Also, your sister might have... implied it."

Julia pursed her lips; her green-blue eyes alight with surprise. "Ruby? When did you talk to Ruby?"

He was distracted now, peering up into the sky. "When she came back upon hearing of your conviction. To apologize for not being there. She was, as you can imagine, quite eager to catch up with me. I told her I was planning to propose to you~"

"You told Ruby?" Julia interrupted incredulously. "Why? You're lucky she didn't put it in one of her articles, or spread it around Toronto!"

William shrugged helplessly. "It wasn't entirely up to me. She was snooping around my desk again," he added darkly. "She approved, of course, and was quite pleased for us, but she warned me to steer clear of your cooking if I wanted to… survive." He scratched his head, and Julia opened her mouth and closed it. This went on for a few seconds before the outraged woman could form a coherent sentence.

"Well, Ruby would say that. She can't cook for the life of her," Julia grumbled, "and just because I set something on fire _one time_ doesn't mean I'm absolutely incompetent in the kitchen." She continued grumbling to herself in an irate fashion, oblivious to the fact William had stopped, his jaw slack and his eyes wide.

"You- you set something on _fire_? Your attempt at cooking resulted in flames?"

"I was sixteen, William!" Julia defended herself fiercely. "How was I to know better? I'd spent my entire life as a _tomboy_! If you must know, that was partially Ruby's fault. She was _supposed _to be watching the food, but she decided to ogle some poor gentleman passing by the house instead. Later she _cleverly_ decided to follow him home and it took my finest convincing skills to talk him out of calling the constabulary."

"We're talking about the fire that you caused-" Julia gave him her best glare at that- "Not the many misadventures of Ruby Ogden. What happened after you realized there was a fire?"

Julia considered his question. "There was a lot of screaming and thrashing around. Thankfully we- _I-_ was able to quench the fire before it got out of hand. Ruby was most unhelpful. I haven't really cooked since then."

William was quietly amazed, an equal amount of impressed (in his opinion it took skill to deal with Ruby whilst putting out a fire) and dismayed at Julia's tale. "You're not cooking," he said firmly, and waved his hand as Julia began to protest vehemently. "I'm sorry, Julia, but I don't want to come over only to discover you have almost burned yourself to a crisp whilst trying to prove a point to me."

"You can't prevent me from cooking if I want to," snapped Julia obstinately, and he raised an eyebrow at her.

"You're being stubborn, Julia," he said, mildly, "And being rather childish about it as well."

"I'm cooking a meal. If you don't like it, you don't have to eat it. I shall simply call you over to gloat that I did it despite your doubt. And then I shall eat it myself, reveling in my glory." She stuck her chin in the air haughtily, her demeanor returning to playful and light-hearted.

"The entire meal?" William tried his best to remain stoic and failed miserably, his lips twitching and his expressive dark brown eyes glinting with amusement. "Are you sure you can stomach that much?"

"I wouldn't want to waste any of the delicious meal I prepared," replied Julia in a superior manner, and then she laughed warmly. "In all seriousness, don't be concerned, William. I shall be extra careful."

Her kissing him cut off any protests forming; his mind went completely and utterly blank. When she withdrew, smirking, it was his turn to look at her pointedly. "You know that's not fair."

She fluttered her eyelashes innocently. "I apologize. I can't seem to help it."

William smiled and then again drew her toward him. "Perhaps it's now my turn to distract _you_," he murmured quietly. Their kiss, this time, was not fiery and passionate as it often was. It was sweet and slow, tender and unhurried. It conveyed desire, yes, but it also conveyed the deep love that William felt for Julia. His heart fluttered, and his chest and head swam with a sense of _rightness. _It was the way he felt when he held her hand, when he embraced her, when he spoke with her. Happiness, he decided, was the correct word. Or was it _love_? Perhaps it was a combination of the two, a most fulfilling mixture. He undoubtedly wished to spend the rest of his life with Julia. He couldn't imagine his future spent any other way, and agonized at the very thought.

Julia, with effort it seemed, pulled back. "You're very good at distraction," she said, finally, out of breath. His smile was sly. "I should use your tactics more often, then."

"Unquestionably," she agreed.

**0o**O**o0**

William approached Julia's house with some trepidation. He wasn't entirely sure what to expect, and the size of her residence didn't help to settle his nerves. Every time the structure came into view, William couldn't help a quirk of dismay. He knew that the house was small compared to her father's, and that she cared not one bit about wealth, but… their difference in class was visible even from her living space. He knew what she would say to this, as she had countless times previously. "William, I didn't choose to be born into a well-to-do family. I don't care about social differences. The neighbors can whisper away about our engagement to their hearts' content; it makes no difference in my mind."

He pushed such thoughts aside roughly. Tonight was about him and Julia, and he would not allow anything at all to spoil their time together. Snatched moments were all that they received currently, due to their conflicting schedules, and William knew that he would be a fool to waste these stretches of time. He made his way up the front steps and knocked twice on the door, loudly. A smirk twitched at the corners of his lips as he imagined what awaited him. At best, the food would be unpleasant, but edible. He would force it all down with enthusiasm as not to provoke Julia. At worst… well, there would be a vacant Detective position at Station House Four.

He waited for almost three minutes, but there was no response. Frowning now, he knocked again to no avail. An eyebrow raised, he cautiously turned the door handle and pushed. The door swung open with a loud creak. As William stepped into the entrance hallway and closed it securely behind him, he reminded himself to have a word with Julia about her safety. "Gillies may be dead and buried," he muttered to himself, "But that doesn't mean we should be lax about security measures."

There was bright light streaming from the area that William assumed was the kitchen. It contrasted sharply with the dimness of the rest of the house, and as he entered, the light pierced his eyes. Because of this, it took him a moment to fully perceive the scene before him.

The kitchen was in a state of absolute disarray. Everything was dusted over with a coat of white; upon further inspection, William realized that it was flour. There were pans and cooking utensils scattered everywhere, and piles of provisions stacked on the ground. Some smoke hung in the air, and the unmistakable tang of burnt food accompanied it. Julia sat on the floor, right in the middle of the mess, her head in her hands. She too was covered in flour; it had caught in her hair and her clothes, and when she raised her head, her expression was almost that of comical despair. "I can't do it!" Julia groaned aloud. "I tried… and one thing led to another… and I am completely hopeless at this!"

There was a beat of silence as William stared at her, wide-eyed. Then he began to laugh helplessly, unable and unwilling to stop. He sat down on the ground across from Julia, still laughing heartily. She attempted to shoot him a baleful glare, but her eyes softened and she began to giggle herself. "I'm sorry… I've completely ruined our night with my stubbornness. I admit it. I shouldn't have tried. You were right."

If possible, William's smile grew wider. "Did you just admit that you were _wrong_ about something, Julia? This is a night of unusual occurrences, isn't it?"

She hit him lightly with a cloth that she still held. "You'd better relish it, because it won't happen often," she warned him offhandedly,

"I will," William promised. He looked about the room once more in wonder, and then leaned forward to kiss Julia on the forehead. "You are absolutely ridiculous," he murmured affectionately. "You're the only one I know who could create such havoc."

"Should I be flattered or insulted?" Julia asked with a grin. Frustration misted her expression as she surveyed her little warzone. "I really thought I could do it…"

"Ruby wasn't exaggerating at all, was she?' It wasn't really a question; it was more of a statement. Sudden mischief was dancing in William's dark eyes as he spoke once more. "I imagine she will be delighted to hear about your latest endeavor."

Julia stared at him in horror. "You can't tell Ruby! I'd never hear the end of it!" She shifted slightly, moving away from William and gawking at him in disbelief.

"Well," he said, slowly, pausing. "I suppose I won't tell your sister…. If you promise that you'll marry me."

"Already done," Julia replied with a coy smile, relaxing. She scooted toward William and wrapped her arms tightly around him, dipping her head as to press her forehead to his. "William Murdoch, I promise that I will marry you. I swear it."

"That's good to hear," William mumbled, caught off guard. There was a comfortable moment, and then he felt the need to add one thing. "I also need you to promise not to attempt cooking again. For the health and safety of both you and those around you."

"_William!_"

* * *

**I was browsing through all my little Murdoch Mysteries oneshots that I have stored up on my computer, and I found this. Apparently, I wrote it just before Crime & Punishment aired, though I only have the foggiest memory of doing so. I was amazed that I could write such a gooey thing. I haven't edited it, so don't murder me if there are grammar issues, please. That wouldn't be fun at all. -Mel**


End file.
